Hot for Hostage

by Maggie Evans

Zain ignored him and kept a firm grip on my jaw as he lifted the knife toward my chest. Oh no. This was taking a turn from very bad to potentially catastrophic. “Oh god. Oh god. Oh god,” I chanted as he moved the weapon closer to my breast. My heart pounded against my rib cage hard enough that my head swam. This was my worst fear coming to life. “Please don’t cut off my nipples!” The sharp blade froze a hair’s breadth from the fabric of my shirt, and Zain’s dark gaze flicked up to mine. “… What?” Each breath felt like it was ripped out of me. “I have a phobia of someone cutting off my nipples and eyelids. Please, anything but that!” I cried, trying to suck in my chest while pulling harder against the stubborn ropes around my wrists—but the knots were impressively tight. If the Ali brothers hadn’t already chosen a life of crime, their knot-tying skills would’ve given them a leg up as Boy Scouts. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. You want my peanut butter dog treat recipe? It’s yours. Code to the shelter’s medicine supply? Eight-Four-Nine-Zero-Two. Just please don’t chop off my⁠—”